


Bar 54

by Erika_I_Prescott



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: A Christmas Fic type, F/M, Its not dark!, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erika_I_Prescott/pseuds/Erika_I_Prescott
Summary: Ethan gets a surprise right in time for Christmas.
Relationships: Ilsa Faust/Ethan Hunt
Kudos: 47





	Bar 54

It had been 3 years since he had seen Ilsa. Walking down 5th Avenue in the Big Apple with no one by his side with Christmas just around the corner didn’t necessarily make him feel particularly  _ good. _ Hell, he didn’t know if she was even  _ alive. _ The last time he left her, she hadn’t given him much in the way of hope of finding him again. There had been no, “Come away with me,” or no, “You know how to find me.” It had been a medium-length hug and a quick whisper of a goodbye, then he was on a plane headed out of Kashmir. He had found that particularly weird after she hadn’t left his side the whole time he was recovering. And that had been about 3 weeks in a, as she described, “A cold-ass country in a cold-ass tent.” Ethan didn’t remember much of that recovery, but what he did remember was the feeling that stupid woman gave him.

Ilsa was an enigma, but that's not to say he didn’t enjoy the chase. The chase was just sidetracked because he hadn’t fucking seen her for 3 years. Their “relationship” had always been weird. She’d save him, then he’d save him, then he’d hit her with a car, then she’d save his friend and the world from nuclear fallout. There was also always large gaps in between the two seeing each other. So, it's like it was overdue to see her again. But, as Ethan walked past Trump Tower as a dusting of Christmas snow colored the top of his hair white, he realized seeing her, as much as it  _ felt _ overdue, it probably wouldn’t happen because he only ran into her on missions. And that night, he was not on a mission, it was a quick stopover and a meeting with an old friend of his. Then, next afternoon, he was on a flight to London for some work business.

It was about 6 o’clock in the evening and the sun had painted a gorgeous pink and purple canvas across the concrete jungle despite the snowfall that had gotten all over his jacket. The city was vibrant that night, full of young people hustling to earn penthouses downtown to impress people they didn’t care about at a job they didn’t want. No matter what was going on, Ethan had always enjoyed New York City. There was something about the hustle and bustle that was vaguely comforting. It was also wasn’t a city that a major mission hadn’t taken place, so the city wasn’t corrupted by PTSD from the world about to blow up or some shit like that.

Ethan had arrived at the building he was told to meet at. The next instruction was to go up to the 54th floor and then he would understand from there. Hunt pulled open a glass door to a high-end lobby that had a few men sitting on a low-to-the-ground white leather couch talking quietly and glancing at Ethan as he walked past them. His attention was quickly pulled away from them as a well-dressed woman from behind the counter said, “Hello, sir. Can I help you this evening?” 

Ethan turned to her and smiled, in a very small movement he pointed up and said, “54.”

The woman subtlety sat back and nodded to him then pointed towards a whole row of elevators.

He nodded and followed the lady’s gesture. The group of men were burning holes in Ethan’s back. He could feel the stares digging into his shoulders as he pressed the button for the elevator to come down.

As Ethan stood there, his mind wandered to a variety of subjects that ultimately just acted as filler for the hole that Ilsa hadn’t filled for three years. In that time, that woman never left his mind for more than a day. Even if he was a mission. No, especially if he was on a mission. His mind would always resort back to, “It would have really helped to have Ilsa right here right now.” After a couple of mission, both Brandt and Benji had made similar comments too. Which had not helped Ethan’s mental state. Not to say he was messed up, just to say he could get distracted. 

The team knew he still thought about her. They had repeatedly told him to take some time off to find her and he had repeatedly said no. It's not that he was sulking, but Benji sure thought so. He had been the one to push Hunt the hardest to go try to find her. He would mention it once a month -- Ethan would know, he was counting. It was always worse around missions. The thought of that talented British Agent with the team always made him the most upset, though he would always hide it well. That thought that, “This would have been easier with Ilsa” never left his mind. The thought of her had hurt him for a long time. It was last year that she had started to slip his mind. The thoughts became less and less, and the sulking became less and less. He had finally started to let the agent go, though sometimes he would relapse and fall back to his old ways.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, a door behind Hunt opened and he picked up his pace as he picked the 54th floor. The elevator was similar to the lobby. Sleek and modern, but not warm. The floor was made of glass, so you could see the bottom of the deep abyss that was below as the elevator shot upwards.

When the elevator finally made it to the 54th floor, the door opened and a pleasant automated voice said, “Welcome to the Bar 54.”

Ethan cracked a smile and made his way into the sleekest bar he had ever been in. The floor was a long black tile that extended throughout the whole place while accompanied by a light wood paneling bar that had a glowing counter. At the far end, table and lounges had been set up. The lounges had the same couches as the lobby did. Everything was freakishly modern, but damn did it look good. The whole place was wrapped in floor to ceiling windows that gave you a 360 view of the dazzling New York sunset from 54 stories up. 

“Welcome in, sir. Are you looking for a table tonight, or a seat at the bar?” A male host greeted him as Hunt rounded the corner onto the floor.

“I’m meeting someone here,” Ethan nodded to the man as he quickly scanned the area.

The host nodded, "Feel free to join them if you see them."

Hunt nodded as he did a better scan of the bar. His eyes locked on a group of people that looked vaguely familiar. A man with wispy light blonde hair was smiling and talking while sitting next to a bigger man wearing a grey suit with his brown hair standing up. Those two sat across from a large man that sat back on the couch wearing a light-colored hat. Another woman sat behind the large man, but Hunt couldn’t see who it was.

A small smile cracked on Ethan's face as he sauntered over to the group. It all clicked in his mind. Benji, or whoever it was, pretended to be his old friend and told him to meet up for a drink. The smile grew larger as Ethan met Benji’s eye.

“Ethan! Buddy! The old friend! How are you this fine New York evening?” Benji stood up and greeted him with a quick hug that was returned and gave him a glass of what he guessed was a whiskey.

“Hi, Benj, its good to see you,” Hunt chuckled softly. He was then greeted by the other members of his team in a similar fashion. The woman who he had not been able to place was William Brandt’s wife, Lauren. A small woman, but not a woman to be messed with. She had worked as an FBI agent in Fairfax for a number of years before working her way up the ladder to be Deputy Director of the FBI. The two hadn’t gotten married long ago, but they were beyond happy. They planned to start a family soon enough, and Brandt had already started to take more and more time off of work to get the house and his life ready for some children.

After all the introductions, Hunt took a seat and started to catch up with the team. The conversations moved naturally, as it does with friends before Ethan finally got around to asking, “Why are you all in New York? And why did you want me to meet you here? It's not like we don't go out for drinks at home.”

Benji glanced around at the team exchanging knowing smiles before he reconvened with Ethan.

“We all wanted to do something for you. A little gift from us to you as repayment for how many times you have saved us.”

Ethan sat back on the couch and gently swished the drink nonchalantly with one hand as Benji continued. “Basically, we wanted to make you happy for your birthday,”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, “Guys. My birthday is in August…”

Brandt chimed in as Benji sat back and pulled out his phone, “We know, but this present couldn’t happen then but it could happen at 6 o'clock on a Thursday night in Manhattan.”

“Well, I’m here, what is it?” Ethan inquired as his attention zeroed in on Will.

Brandt mirrored Ethan’s movements and sat back on the couch and swished his drink around but with one noticeable difference. Will gestured to the hallway with his head that Ethan followed with his eyes.

Time slowed down as his eyes zeroed in on a tall woman that stood above at the entrance of the lounge. Ethan’s jaw opened just a little as he did his absolute best to continue his reaction.

“Happy late birthday, Hunt,” Brandt said quietly as Ethan stood up and fixed his jacket.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself under his breath. She really was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. The effortless and slightly messy brown curls that outlined her face and the glow of her skin made Ethan's heart speed up more than he thought it would.

“Hi,” she smiled as she moved towards him, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Apparently, over the course of three years, he had forgotten what her voice sounded like because the accent washed over him like a warm wave of tropical ocean water.

“Hi, Ilsa.” Ethan finally pulled himself out of the trance she always seemed to put him in.

“It’s been a while.” She closed the gap between the two of them and hugged him tightly, catching Ethan off guard. After a second he slowly wrapped his arms around her middle. If he was right, he  _ swore _ he heard a small noise of content escape from her lips. All it did was make the butterflies in Ethan’s stomach fly that much faster. He didn’t know if he  _ loved _ her or not, but he wouldn’t hesitate to die for that stupid British contact killer. He never, after three years of thinking about her, never finalized how he felt about her. In the moment of that hug, he decided. He never wanted to go more than a month without seeing her again. At that point, it all depended on how she felt. He would move anywhere, live in any country, or take down any person just to keep her close to him. He didn’t particularly care if she loved him or not, hell, he would be fine as friends. He just wanted  _ some _ type of relationship with her. 

“It’s really good to see you again,” he whispered to her which just made her hug him tighter. Ethan smiled and rubbed his hand up and down her back.

“I genuinely thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she whispered quietly.

Ethan pulled out of the hug but kept her close holding the small of her back with his hand with her falling on his chest.

“Why?” he asked as he looked her in her deep, dark, and dangerous eyes.

“After 2 years, the hope started to slip that I would see my handsome agent again, then half of year three came and went and I became discouraged.”

“And why are you here today?” Ethan asked as he became hyper-aware of the way Ilsa’s back felt like in his hand. 

“Benji reached out to me while I was on a mission,” she explained as she slowly realized that Ethan was holding her whole weight and that it probably look as if he was dipping her in a ballet dance.

“Hey, Hunts- I mean- Well, I’ll go with Hunts, look at me will you?” Benji interjected as he snapped a photo of the two of them in the frozen ballet position. After the flash, Ethan pulled her up and stood straight like an embarrassed teenager who just got caught with his girlfriend at homecoming. Ilsa followed him but fell into his chest from the momentum of the motion back up. To catch her balance, she grabbed Ethan’s arm stabling herself.

“Benji,” Ethan pointed, “I’m going to kill you.” Ilsa laughed and moved closer to him. Enough to have her arm on his back and it not be noticed by the team.

“You are going to hate when I use that in the best man speech in your guy’s wedding,” Benji said as he sent it into the team’s group chat. Ethan’s phone buzzed in his jacket pocket just making his glare worse.

“I’ll love it, Benj,” Ilsa laughed as she slipped her hand into his behind his back.

“Glad  _ someone _ will!” he winked at Ilsa as the team continued to laugh.

After the laughter died down and casual conversation had started back up again within the team, Ethan fully turned to Ilsa and asked, “Do you want to sit with them, or would you like to grab a drink with me, Ils?”

Ilsa looked at him with the widest smile on her face, “A drink with you is what I’ve been waiting for like six years, love. Yes, I will have a drink you.”

It was Ethan’s turn to smile, “Follow me.”

He turned away from the group with Ilsa following right by his side. Hand in hand, the two made their way over to the bar.

The team paused their conversation to watch the two. Benji leaned forward and yelled, “Merry Christmas, Hunts!” Ethan looked back and glared at Benji while Ilsa looked back and mouthed, “ _That was perfect_ ,” with a huge smile on her face as Ethan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into him telling her not to talk to Benji.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you have read my other works you'd know that I kill either Ilsa or Ethan in many fics. In this one, no one dies! Honestly, I'm shocked at myself, but don't worry, if you wanted someone to die, someone will probably die in the next one. Anyway, thank you for reading, it means a lot and Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night!


End file.
